Everything Familiar Is Gone

The seemingly defeaning noise fills my ears. I press my hands against them, trying to block it out a as I turn my head from side to side, trying to locate it's source. Then I realise. The noise is from the traffic outside the new house. The traffic that I am not used to. That I don't think I will ever be used to. Just like almost everything else about this new place. New. Unusual. Strange. Unfamiliar. Everything familiar is gone.

When I close my eyes, I can almost pretend I'm back there again. Back where I should be. Back where I belong. I can hear the birds calling to one another and the wind whispering through the trees. I can smell the rain and see it dripping from the gum trees. I can see the rich, dark earth stretching on around me, as far as I can see. There is a wide smile on my lips.  I'm almost back there. Almost.

The smile disappears as I open my eyes again. I'm not there. I'm here. Even though I don't want to be.  There was no choice. Here is where I am. But here is not home. Home is there. Here is just here.

I close my eyes again and in my mind, at least, I am back there. I am home. With the sound of birds and the rich, dark earth. I breath in, slow and deep, imagining I can smell the rain, as if it is dripping from the gumtrees right beside me.

I am here. Wherever here is. I am here, longing to be home. Longing for home to not just be in my head. Longing for home to be not there but here. So I stand, imagining I am home. Wondering. Who will save me? Who will take me home?